Hamish leaned forward. "You mean they found something in the pathologist's report other than heroin?"

"They found heroin, all right," said Mr. Jarret, "but they also found traces of a strong sleeping drug. Don't you see? Someone must have drugged him, injected the heroin into him and made it look like an accidental overdose."

"I thought there was something wrong about the whole business," said Hamish. "But surely the detectives in Strathbane are investigating the case. Why come to me?"

"Because they're not," said Mr. Jarret heavily. "They say it was a simple drug overdose and they won't listen to us."

"So how do they explain the presence of the sleeping drug?" demanded Hamish, exasperated.

"They say these drug addicts will take anything. They just don't want to know. That's why we came to you."

"Why me?"

"Iheard on the grapevine that you were clever, that you had solved cases and let your superiors take the credit. Justice must be done." Mr. Jarret clasped his hands tightly. "I am prepared to pay you for your investigation."

"That would not be necessary," said Hamish, thinking hard. "It will be difficult for me. I can keep on asking around. Tell me about Tommy."

"He was so clever at school," said Mrs. Jarret, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "We had great hopes of him. He was going to be an engineer. He went to Strathbane Technical College and the first year was fine. During his second year, that was when he started acting strange. He had been living at home, with us, but then he said he was moving out to a flat to share with two others."

Hamish took out his notebook. "What were their names?"